


Wide Eyes

by aconfederacyofscript



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aconfederacyofscript/pseuds/aconfederacyofscript





	Wide Eyes

“I think I’m gonna pass out,” Skye breathes heavily and leans against the desk for support. Her heart pounds in her ears.

“Skye, she’s going to be just fine.” She hears what Coulson is saying, but she’s not registering it.

She won’t survive this again. First Ward and now Simmons. She couldn’t be infiltrating Hydra.

“It’s ridiculous. Why would you do that?”

Her hands leave sweaty prints on the table top and she staggers backwards before she is met with the solid hands of May, who guides her to a chair.

“Why would you do that to us?!” she nearly yells and presses the back of her hand against her mouth when her voice breaks. “Why would you put her in such danger? We can’t lose her. I can’t lose her.”  
  


Her voice trembles when tears pool in her eyes and she buries her face in her hands.

“Skye, maybe you just need to lie down. Rest some. It’s been a stressful few weeks.”

“Yeah, well. I want Jemma to come home. I love her, and this is ridiculous. You should have told us sooner. We all thought she just  _left us_.”

“It is part of the cover, and you know that,” May says.

“Don’t try to tell me I’m being unreasonable. You should get her back before it’s too late.”

“We can’t back out now. That would blow her cover. There’s someone there to keep an eye out for her, Skye. You need to trust me,” Coulson says, but the ringing in her ears is taking over.

“I don’t know if I can right now.”

Skye takes another shuddering breath before getting up and making her way over to her bunk. Once she closes the door and sits down she feels as if the walls are closing in on her and the room spins. She wipes her hands on her pants and swallows hard.

What if she wasn’t going to be okay? What if this time they didn’t make it out alive? There were plenty of occasions when there wasn’t an extraction plan. What if this person Coulson was talking about couldn’t keep Jemma safe.

And how could she have been so wrong about everything. She should have known better than to judge straight away. Jemma wouldn’t just leave them, leave  _her_ … not now… not after what happened.

She needs to clear her head if she wants to make sure Jemma is alright, but her chest is still tight and the room is still spinning. Everything here reminds her of Jemma, of the nights they accidentally spent in bed together, the countless of movies they watched, the endless amount of time they spend here just looking after each other. Everything here reminds her of her, and it breaks Skye’s heart every time.

* * *

It’s almost two thirty in the morning when Skye wakes up from a cold-sweat nightmare and sits up straight in bed. The ghosts of her dream still linger in her head. She can’t be here and wait for the news that Jemma won’t come home. She simply can’t do that.

Her heart still doesn’t feel quite the same. But then again, it hasn’t felt the same ever since Jemma slipped out of her bed one morning and never returned. She still remembers how cold her bed felt that morning. A different cold.

She starts up her laptop and goes to work, quietly. Leave no trace, that’s the main thing. There was no way she would hack into Coulson’s files and leave a trace. There must be something there, something that pointed her in the right direction. Something that could tell her where they hid her… Skye wants to think  _girlfriend_. That’s how she feels about Jemma, she realises. They never spoke about it like that. They never tied the knot, so to speak. But they did  _do_  couple-y things. They watched movies in bed and fell asleep on each other only to wake up entangled in each other’s limbs. They slept together, in the innocent and… not so innocent sense. They ate dinner together. It made Skye feel normal in a world that wasn’t normal at all.

She shivers and pulls her blanket around her shoulders tighter. She probably should have gotten dressed, because no way in hell she would stop to catch some sleep before she knew more. Endless files pass her eyes and are processed by her brain. So many words, so many locations, so many details of missions that she’s sure aren’t Simmons’, so many details of missions she  _isn’t exactly sure_ aren’t Simmons’.

And then she pieces it together. There are two data files that are encrypted to decode a third file. Skye might as well smack herself in the face. She built the code for this. Coulson trust her too much. As soon as she figures it out, the rest is simple enough. There’s an address.

She swallows hard and checks the clock on her night stand. The red numbers blink and show her that it’s three twenty-five. She has to go now. Sink or swim. Do or die. There wouldn’t be a better time.

By the time she is dressed in semi-combat semi-casual gear it is four thirty-five and she’s ready to go. She makes sure to make her phone untraceable. She tells no one where she’s going. She simply makes herself a cup of coffee to go and sticks a gun in the front of her pants.

She might not be able to bring Jemma home, but to be with her for only five minutes would be enough for now.

Right now she’s glad that May trained her. She’s quiet and composed. Her heart-rate doesn’t spike, her breathing is steady. She disengages the lock of the front door, but makes sure to lock it behind her again before pulling a beanie over her hair and putting on some shades.

Jemma wasn’t even that far away from where they are. She could have taken the bus, wasn’t it for the odd time, so she hails a cab and gives him the address of a block down from where Jemma lives.

Skye doesn’t say a word to the cab driver, but pays and tips him modestly and gets off twenty minutes later. It would have taken them longer, but she noticed the guy was speeding. Maybe he was scared she was going to hurt him.   
  


* * *

Her heart jitters when she’s standing in front of the apartment. Nothing would reveal who lives here. The whole building was sober, every door was sober. It is all very impersonal, Skye notices, perfect for an undercover mission. Does she knock? Does she force the door?

Skye tries the handle. Of course it’s locked. She decides knocking might be her best option. What if she wasn’t home, though? Skye doesn’t even want to think about that. So she knocks, softly at first, but then as if she might be a cop.

Listening quietly, she hears the snapping of a light, the loading of a gun and the padding of bare feet on tiles. She’s sweating, and although her heart-rate doesn’t spike she’s still nervous.

“Who is it?”

Jemma’s voice makes Skye weak in the knees and has her unable to speak for a moment. She just wants to rest her head against Jemma’s chest and listen to her mumble sweet things into her hair. She missed her voice; it probably was one of Skye’s favourite things about her.

“Who’s there?” It’s more urgent this time.

“Jem, it’s me.”

“Take two steps back and put your hands up… please.” Still so polite.

“Why?”

“Because I will shoot if it’s not really you, Skye.”

Skye wants to laugh, but tucks her shirt behind her gun to show that she’s not holding it and folds her hands behind her head while stepping back.

“Consider it done.”

Three locks click and the door opens a little bit. Jemma is pointing a gun at her, but she doesn’t flinch.

“You can search me if you want. This is all I have on me.”

“No… I… Tell me something only you would know.”

“That you snore a little when you fall asleep on me, and that you always stick your cold hands under my shirt.” Skye laughs quietly when Jemma blushes. “Come here.”

Skye steps into her arms when Jemma draws the door open further, and walks them inside still pressed flush together. Jemma nuzzles her nose into Skye’s neck and wraps her arms tightly around her middle. She just allows her scent to wash over her and sighs contently.

“I really missed you, Skye,” she whispers and presses a kiss to her collarbone. Skye giggles when Jemma’s eyelashes tickle the column of her throat when Jemma’s lips trail up to her jaw.

“I missed you too. Promise me you’ll be safe, though.” Her fingers find their way to the knot of Jemma’s nightgown.

The satin pools around her ankles when Skye pushes the soft fabric off her shoulders. Their breaths hitch and Skye swallows hard. Jemma had been working out, and it shows. The once so soft lines had become slightly edgier, the dip at her hipbones more defined, the ridges of her ribs visible when she inhales deeply. Jemma smiles and a laugh escapes from her throat when Skye cups her cheeks and kisses her sloppily.

“I love you.”

Jemma sighs with a smile on her face and tangles her fingers into Skye’s hair. She stands on her tiptoes to press their lips together.

Jemma smiles into their kiss. “I wish I could come home with you. When do you have to get back?”

“I have to be back before Coulson gets up, which is around seven lately. I’ll just tell them I was out running.”

“You don’t run,” Jemma says and slips her hands under Skye’s loose shirt, only to take it off and toss it into the room. It sends a pleasant shiver up her back and Skye grins.

“ _Maybe_. But I like a marathon.” She laughs so hard that Jemma has to put her hand over her mouth and buries her face into her chest.


End file.
